


Pretty in Pink

by mahbecks



Series: Becks' Gladnis Week 2017 [3]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bad Jokes, Day 2, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Gladnis Week, Humor, M/M, Romance, Wearing the other's clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 23:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12922260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mahbecks/pseuds/mahbecks
Summary: Gladio rips the last of his shirts while hunting some voreteeth. It's no problem, really; they're a few hours out from Lestallum, and he can easily pick up some more. Besides, not like he's ever cared about being topless, yeah?But that's before he realizes that when restaurants say, "No shirt, no shoes, no service", they mean it.Luckily for him, Ignis has a spare he thinks Gladio can fit into.*A story for Gladnis Week 2017, Day Two - Wearing the Other's Clothes





	Pretty in Pink

 

“Shit.”

Gladio looked down, grimacing at the shredded remains of what had once been his favorite tank top. It was completely ruined, the black cotton beyond redemption.

Fuck - this had been his last one, too.

He’d only thought to bring a couple shirts with him on this damned road trip. They were only gonna be gone a few weeks, right? He could do laundry if he had to, or even better, just go shirtless. Didn’t bother him. But the first tank top had fallen prey to a particularly nasty behemoth, the second had been burned to a crisp at Ravatogh, the third had had to be used as a makeshift rag when the Regalia had needed a sudden oil change near the Malmalam Thicket, and well - now, thanks to that pack of voreteeth, this one was toast, too.

He let his head fall back with a sigh, ignoring the painful scratches beneath the tatters of his top. Iggy was gonna kill him. He’d already mended Gladio’s clothes more times than either of them could count. _Next time it happens,_ he’d warned, _I’m not going to fix it. You’re on your own, Gladio. Mend it yourself or buy a new one._

As if he could sew well enough to fix this shit.

Nothing for it - he’d have to buy some new duds when they got back to Lestallum. Until then, he’d make do without.

With a grunt, he pushed himself to his feet, letting his great sword disappear. Ignis was already walking towards him, eyeing the scratches on his belly. “It’s nothing,” he said, waving his lover off with a hand. “Just a couple scratches.”

“They don’t look like scratches,” Ignis disagreed.

“Yeah, dude, those are bleeding pretty bad,” Prompto added.

“We’ve all had worse,” Gladio said, shrugging it off. He pulled his tank top over his head then, using the fabric to wipe up some of the blood. It stung a bit, more than he’d expected. But it was nothing a couple bandages and some ointment couldn’t fix. No need to waste a potion on something this small.

Ignis seemed to agree with this assessment, pulling the first-aid kit out of the Regalia’s trunk and motioning for Gladio to come and lean against the car. He did so, putting the tank top to the side so Iggy could work.

“That shirt is ruined,” he said lightly, pulling off one of his gloves. He used a cotton swab doused in water to clean up most of the blood, and then squeezed a healthy amount of the antibiotic cream onto his fingers, gently dabbing it against the clean cuts.

“No kiddin’,” Gladio said, looking down at the ruined top. “That was my last one too.”

Ignis looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve none left?”

“Nope. Just my jacket, and even that I’d prefer not to wear. Smells like a behemoth’s asshole, at this point.”

“Hmm.” Ignis reached for a bandage, pulling it out of the packaging and aligning it with the topmost cut. He pressed it gently against Gladio’s skin, making certain the adhesive had taken before reaching for another. “I did warn you that taking such little clothing was risky.”

Gladio sighed. “Yeah, yeah. Nothing I can do ‘bout it now though.”

“I’m sure you’ll find something in Lestallum.”

“Hope so.”

“Though I certainly won’t complain to see walking around camp without a shirt on,” Ignis admitted, giving Gladio a little smirk.

Gladio grinned. “Oh yeah?”

“You’ll be very distracting - more than usual, even.”

From somewhere off to the side, Noctis groaned. “Guys, c’mon,” he said. “I’m right here.”

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “So?”

“So, ew. Get a room.”

Gladio rolled his eyes at that, but Ignis shot him a warning look before he could say anything. “Apologies, Noct,” he said. “We’ll keep it to ourselves.”

“So long as you and Prompto do the same.”

“Hey!”

“Don’t think I can’t hear you at night,” Gladio retorted.

“Dude, I told you we needed to be more quiet!” Prompto hissed, jostling Noct with his elbow.

“We _are_ quiet,” Noct shot back. “They just have weird, super-human hearing.”

“One doesn’t need to have hyper-sensitive hearing in order to discern the words you two whisper to each other in the dead of night,” Ignis said flatly. Prompto flushed scarlet, and Noct opened his mouth to say something else, but Ignis beat him to the punch. “But for now, I believe we have more pressing matters to attend to than deciding which of us is most prone to displays of public affection. For one, the light is fading fast.”

As one, they looked to the sky, noticing that the sky was indeed turning dark, the horizon tinged with orange and pink. Gladio pushed up off the trunk of the car, nodding. “Let’s get going,” he said, motioning for the younger two to get in the Regalia.

Ignis took the driver’s seat, buckling in, while Gladio hopped over the side and took his usual seat in the back. The leather stuck to his bare, sweaty skin, and he squirmed around a bit to try and find a comfortable position.

It didn’t work.

“Gladio.”

He looked up, catching Ignis’ eye in the rearview mirror. “What’s up, Iggy?”

“I don’t think we’ll make it to Lestallum before nightfall.”

“Think they’ll have something I can pick up at a Coernix station?”

“I doubt it,” Ignis replied. “They might have a few t-shirts, but nothing in your size.”

Shit.

Well, it couldn’t be helped. And it was his own fault for not bringing more damn clothes. He shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest, and Ignis started up the Regalia’s engine. He would just have to do without tonight.

Again, it wasn’t _that_ big of a deal - not really. They’d find a haven somewhere, they’d set up camp, and then get some sleep. He could do all of that without a shirt on. Hell, he’d probably have done it without a shirt even if he _had_ one. There was nothing he hated more than being hot, and setting up camp was sure to get his heart rate pumping.

So yeah, it wasn’t serious. He’d just have to wait until morning, when they got back to Lestallum, and he’d give Iggy some gil and ask him to go into the big and tall store and buy him a few more shirts.

He’d go in himself, but, y’know - Iggy just better at picking out clothes than he was. The guy’s fashion sense was impeccable, and he had this strange sixth sense about what sizes Gladio would need and what colors would look best on him.

Gladio put his hands behind his head, letting his eyes slip closed against the sun, still burning right on the horizon. It warmed his face, and along with the wind blowing through his hair, it made him feel good, nice and relaxed. After a long day of hunting, it was a relief to just be able to sit here, to just kick back and enjoy the ride, anticipating a nice, hot meal and a good night’s sleep under the stars.

Gods, there was nothing he liked better.

Okay, so maybe that wasn’t true. There were a few things he liked better than a night out in the wild. But it was pretty darn high up on the list, yeah? Close to the top, right ahead of drinking a nice, cold beer on a hot day and just behind Iggy fucking his brains out -

“Oh, hey! A Crow’s Nest! Can we stop? Please?”

Prompto’s voice shattered the calm quiet, and Gladio’s eyes snapped open. Ahead of him, Prompto had pushed up onto his knees, leaning out the side of the car, pointing to the familiar diner’s rotating sign and half-filled parking lot.

Ignis sighed. “Noct?”

“I could go for a bite,” the prince replied, shrugging. “And there’s a camper.”

“A shower,” Prompto said wistfully. “A bed. And no bugs!” He turned back towards Ignis, batting his eyelashes pleading. “Please, Iggy? Can we stop?”

Again, Ignis met Gladio’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Gladio shrugged, letting Ignis know he was game. He could use a bite himself, and if sleeping in a camper prevented the kids from bitching for the night, hey, he was all for it.

Ignis sighed. “Alright,” he said. “As you wish.”

Prompto let out a whoop of joy as he slowed, turning into the diner’s parking lot and finding a parking space near the front door. Prompto and Noct were first out of the car, all smiles and laughter as they ran towards the entrance.

Gladio and Ignis exited the car a little more slowly, not in nearly so much of a hurry for the diner’s greasy fries and greasier burgers. Ignis secured the fee for the camper while Gladio threw out the day’s trash, locking up the car when he was done.

“There,” Ignis said, stuffing the remainder of their gil back into his wallet. “Now that that’s taken care of, shall we?”

Gladio grinned, slinging an arm around Ignis’ shoulders. “You mean you don’t wanna go make out behind the gas tanks? Give the kids some alone time?”

Ignis snorted, though he didn’t push Gladio away. “Maybe later, after they’re too immersed in their video games to notice we’re gone,” he replied.

It wasn’t a no. Gladio decided to count it as a victory, feeling even happier than he already was as they made their way to the door, pushing inside to a gust of warm air, old music, and the smell of fries just taken out of the fryer -

“Hey! You!”

Gladio blinked, turning towards the man at the counter. “Yeah?” he asked, arm falling down to his side.

“What kinda place you think I’m runnin’ here?” he asked. “You not see the sign when you walked in?”

“I - what?”

“The _sign,”_ the guy snapped, pointing to a sticker next to the front door.

Still not getting it, Gladio turned around. Beside him, Ignis stifled a laugh. “There,” he said, reaching out to touch the glass. “‘No shirt, no shoes, no service.’”

Gladio groaned. “You gotta be kiddin’ me,” he said. Just then, his stomach decided to make a loud, embarrassing noise, as if it too was dismayed at the thought that he wouldn’t get to eat because he’d managed to tear up his last shirt. His good spirits fell, crashed and burned, literally died in the pit of his stomach, at the thought of eating granola bars in the camper while the rest of the group had _cheeseburgers._

Ignis smirked. “It’s a fairly standard rule,” he said.

“Fuck me,” Gladio muttered, passing a hand over his face.

“Later, if you wish,” Ignis murmured. “For now - come with me. I think I have something that might help.”

Gladio followed him out to the car, lip poking out sullenly. What a stupid rule - in the back of his mind, he knew it was probably some hygienic regulation or something, a rule intended to keep the place clean. But seriously, he wasn’t _that_ dirty, and it wasn’t as if the fucking Crow’s Nest was a beacon of cleanliness. Pretty sure he’d seen dead bugs in the windowsill and dust in the corners.

But, hey, whatever. He’d follow the dumb rules.

Ignis popped the trunk, reaching for his bag. Gladio watched as he rummaged around, wondering what the hell he was looking for. A shirt? No way he’d be able to wear any of Iggy’s clothes. All his shirts had sleeves; Gladio’s biceps would never fit, let alone his shoulders. He was too broad, too tall, too _bulky,_ where Iggy was slim and trim.

What else could he be searching for, then?

“Ah-hah! Here.” Ignis straightened, holding out what looked like a scrap of old, well-worn fabric.

“What’s this?” Gladio asked skeptically, taking the item from Ignis’ hand. He let it unfurl, holding it up in the fading light of the day.

To his surprise, it was a tank top.

A _pink_ tank top.

He stared at Ignis, uncomprehending. “Iggy?”  

“An unfortunate accident, that,” Ignis said solemnly. “A victim of Noctis’ first attempt at washing his own laundry. Or rather, _my_ laundry. He thought he’d surprise me - show me he’d been listening, show me that he appreciated all of the little things that I did for him. Unfortunately, he put one of my red silk shirts in with my undergarments, and - well. As you can see, it didn’t exactly pan out.”

“Shit…”

“I ended up having to throw most of them out. I kept this one, though - it was the least pink of all of them, and I figured it was always good to have a spare. In case of emergencies,” he added, smirking.

Gladio got it, then, realization of what Iggy was getting at hitting him like a ton of bricks.

“You’re fuckin’ with me,” he accused, looking from Ignis to the tank top, and then back again.

“I assure you, I’m not.”

“Iggy, there’s no way I’m gonna fit into this-”

“It’s stretched out a bit over the years, to the point that it’s loose on me,” Ignis continued. “Still a bit short, but I think it’ll do.”

Gladio groaned.

“The way I see it, you have two options. You can wear that, admittedly, ill-fitting tank top, and we can go eat dinner. Or you can go eat some snacks in the caravan, and I’ll see if I can bring you something in an hour.”

Gladio scowled at the smirk on his lover’s face. “You’re fuckin’ enjoying this,” he snapped.

“Very much so,” Ignis agreed, chuckling.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe this,” Gladio muttered, eyeing the tank top dubiously.

Much as he hated to admit it, it _was_ his only option if he wanted to eat with the rest of them. And gods, he was starving. He hadn’t been until he’d stepped in the diner, but as soon as the wave of fast food smells had hit him, he’d been ravenous. He wanted to eat, and he wanted to eat _now,_ not in an hour.

Fuck.

Grumbling to himself about his damn luck, he pulled the tank top over his head, praying it wouldn’t just rip right down the middle. To his surprise, it held. It was tight, sure, and the bottom hem barely covered his first set of abdominal muscles. He felt if he breathed too deep, he’d pop a seam, and _shit_ , you could almost see the tops of his nipples, the collar dipped so deep.

Beside him, Ignis was barely stifling a laugh.

“Oh, laugh it up,” Gladio snapped, slamming the trunk shut.

“Adorable,” Ignis said, chuckling. “Really, Gladio, it suits you.”

“Can we just go eat now?”

“Certainly.”

Gladio stalked more than walked back to the diner, pushing the door open with a little more force than was necessary. The same guy from before, the one behind the counter, glared at him, but said nothing, and Gladio guessed his top had been begrudgingly accepted.

He slid into the booth across from Noct and Prompto, grabbing for the menu, trying to ignore their flabbergasted looks.

“Dude,” Prompto said, fighting back a laugh. “What is _that_?!’

“You look so cute,” Noct crooned. “Pink is your color.”

“Though I think it’s a _tad_ too small for ya, big guy!” Prompto added.

Noct snickered. “Yeah, I think it’s getting a bit nipply in here, huh?”

“Fuck off,” Gladio snapped, looking sideways as Ignis sat down beside him. “You happy, Iggy?”

“Quite,” Ignis said, grinning.

“Take a picture,” Noct said, nudging Prompto with his elbow. “I never wanna forget this.”

“Don’t you dare,” Gladio said.

“Do it!”

“On it, man!”

Prompto pulled his phone out, holding it up to try and get a good angle. Gladio quickly popped open the menu, doing his best to hide himself with its laminated pages.

“You can’t hold the menu forever,” Noct pointed out. “They’re gonna take it back.”

As if on cue, the waitress approached their table then, pulling out a pad of paper and asking what she could get them.

“New friends,” Gladio said.

“I’m sorry?”

“He’s being facetious,” Ignis assured her. “He’ll have a cheeseburger, well done, with extra fries and and a chocolate milkshake. I’ll have the same, if you please.”

“Oh. Okay. And what can I get for you two?”

The woman's attention safely diverted, Ignis turned towards Gladio. “Give me the menu, Gladio,” he murmured, holding a hand out.

“Iggy…”

“Don’t worry. I’ll delete the photo myself later.”

“You mean, you’ll send it to yourself and then delete it from Prom’s phone.”

“Naturally.”

Gladio weighed his options, and came up wanting. Fighting back a groan, he handed over the menu. “You owe me,” he muttered. Across the table, Prompto wasted no time snapping a picture, showing it to Noct with a happy laugh. “Big time.”

Ignis patted his leg beneath the table, fingers dangerously close to his crotch. His eyes flicked across the table, and upon seeing Noct and Prompto thoroughly engrossed in looking at Prompto’s phone, leaned in and pressed a kiss to Gladio’s cheek.

“I think I know a way to make it up to you,” he drawled, tongue accidentally flicking against Gladio’s skin.

Or maybe not so accidentally, Gladio thought, when Ignis pulled back and winked at him.

“The gas tanks,” he continued. “Ten o’clock. I’ll be waiting.”

“You better be.”

Ignis smirked. “I wouldn't miss getting the chance to rip that tank top off your body for the world.”

Gladio groaned, head banging back against the booth. "Kill me now." He looked over at Iggy, glaring at him. "You ain't ever gonna let me live this down, are you?"

Ignis chuckled, reaching out to pat his leg once more. "Not a chance, love. Not a chance."

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun writing this one, hahahaha - stupid stuff like this is my jam :)
> 
> Feedback is much loved and appreciated! :)
> 
> EDIT: pending_url drew some amazing art of Gladio in his teeny tiny pink tank top! go check it out here! seriously, it's so perfect <3 https://twitter.com/pending_url/status/968001158294863873


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